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Question: Purse of holding


August 8, 2016 by Lyn

This story written in response to AMHarte’s question to Kailani:
What’s inside your purse?

My purse? Oh, this thing? Well, it’s got – almost everything in it, I guess.

Here’s my notebook. I draw patterns in it, when things aren’t making a lot of sense. I need it a lot, lately. It’s got my notes on the Law in there, and some of the other rules and.. traditions, I guess… that people have mentioned to me in passing. It’s got the beginnings of a scientific classification of the changes from the human norm, at least as observable. I’m no Jane Goodall, really, but these aren’t chimps, either. I think chimps would be safer.

My purse. There’s the notebook, which I mentioned. There’s Lady of Avalon, by Marion Zimmer Bradley, in hardcover, and the National Audubon Society Field Guide to North American Trees, softcover, and A Stillness at Appomattox, by Bruce Catton, paperback. Three pens, two highlighters, and two pencils. One eraser stick and – oh, yeah. A silly little name eraser my mother bought for me. She was so thrilled to actually find something with my name on it; I think for a moment she forgot that she didn’t approve of the name.

I haven’t yet figured that one out, why she gave me a name she doesn’t like.

A multi-tool, a mini-maglight, a lighter, a box of strike-anywhere matches, and half a candle in a ziplock bag, all left over from our last camping trip. I like to be prepared.

A postcard from Mackinac Island. That was a really nice trip. The card’s getting a little beat-up, but I suppose maybe someday I can go back and get another one.

My student ID from high school – I guess Addergoole doesn’t really need something like that – and my learner permit. Twenty-five dollars in cash, three tickets left from the local arcade, and a Japanese 1000-yen note. My mom doesn’t know I have that one – she found the card my father mailed me and threw it out, with a lot of histrionics, but I didn’t want to tell her about the money. Not because I have any way to spend it, although I suppose I could. But it’s the only indication I have, the only solid proof anywhere, that I actually had a father.

All of that in a Navajo-weaving-style wallet, another souvenir. My mother and I travel a lot. “Traveled,” I guess; I suppose past tense is probably more appropriate.

A hairbrush, some barrettes, a couple ponytail elastics, and a small pair of sandals that fit in a pocket. Oh, and a bottle of sunscreen.

What? I like to be prepared. If I can figure out how Mabina did that trick, when she folded my purse into itself, maybe I can fit a picnic blanket in here. I think there’s already a fork and a knife at the bottom somewhere…

Oh, yeah. And the key to Conrad’s collar. Because… well, just because.


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